


2, 4, 6, 8, Who's Gunna Get The Date?

by rebekahdarian



Series: 5+1 Things [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alive Hale Family, All Childhood Friends, Bitchy Lydia Martin, Bully Elements, Cheerleader!Braeden, Cheerleader!Jennifer Blake, Cheerleader!Kate Argent, Cheerleader!Stiles, Derek is suspicious and judgy, Everyone's In Highschool, Happy Ending, Human AU, I Fudged ALL The Ages, I'd consider this angst, In-on-it Paige, M/M, Mean High Schoolers, Nice Peter, Scott is hungry and confident of Stiles's game, Sorry!, There's a book thief who's never caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebekahdarian/pseuds/rebekahdarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times a cheerleader asked Derek out on a date, and the one time he said yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2, 4, 6, 8, Who's Gunna Get The Date?

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the stereotyping, I know not all high school cheerleaders are like this, but I saw the opportunity and took it. 
> 
> Possible Trigger Warning for someone gagging on food.
> 
> Thank you [@gia279](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Gia279/pseuds/Gia279) as always for being my wonderful beta :)

It was approximately a year since Stiles dropped lacrosse to try out for the cheer squad. Scott had slapped him on the back happily at the news that he had made the team, suggesting they go out for burgers and shakes to celebrate.

“You haven’t said anything.” Stiles turned nervously to look at Derek.

Derek paused, then the words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. “Try not to drop anyone.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes, quickly redirecting his attention to Scott when he gave a nervous, strangled chuckle. 

Derek stood in the hallway of the high school, hand lingering on his locker as Stiles brushed by to go to cheer practice. In the year Stiles had been on the squad he hadn’t dropped anyone, and if anything, seemed less clumsy on the field than anywhere else. 

Derek had attended more of the high school sports events in the last year than any other time in his life, often dragging at least one of his sisters with him so he wasn’t alone. Even though he did his best to not draw attention to himself, his presence hadn’t gone unnoticed. Unfortunately.

 

 **1**  
The first time it was a note tumbling out of his locker, Derek watched it fall apathetically. He lifted an eyebrow, staring a second longer at it. Who the hell would put something in his locker? Didn’t people stop doing that in middle school? 

He considered leaving it on the ground and pretending he didn’t even see it. He glanced to the left, then the right. A exasperated sigh escaped his lips when he saw Cora bounding toward him.

“What’s that?” she cooed, hand whipping out to snatch up the piece of paper.

“Mine,” Derek snapped, picking it up scant seconds before she could close her fingers around it.

Cora straightened, her lips pursed in a pout. 

He scowled back at her. 

Slowly the pout vanished, replaced by a sly smile.

“You have an admirer.” She bounced on the balls of her feet with a grin wide enough to split her face. “Ooh, I’m telling Laura, and Mom,” she dissolved into a fit of giggles, “and Uncle Peter, and—”

“It’s not a love note,” Derek growled.

“Then what is it?” Cora cocked her head innocently to the side. 

“The answers to Mr. Harris’s test,” Derek lied. He tucked the books he needed from his locker under his arm, bracing himself to make a run for it. Whatever the note said, he definitely couldn’t open it in front of Cora _now_. He closed the locker a bit harder than necessary. “I’ve got to go to class.”

“Uh-huh,” Cora muttered, allowing him an easy escape. 

Derek turned the corner, slipping into the boys’ bathroom. Even Cora wouldn’t follow him in there. Laura might, he reflected nervously. Cora hadn’t quite gotten that nervy yet.

He looked at the folded piece of paper nervously. _Did_ he have an admirer? He shifted his books around until he could open the paper.

Scrawled in bright blue pen, it read: **Want to go out to dinner sometime? Braeden, locker number 247.**

Derek frowned, his heart slowing down to a normal pace, a vague sense of disappointment tugging at his gut. 

“No, thanks,” he muttered, tucking the note in his back pocket and preparing himself to actually go to class this time.

 

 **2**  
“Do you know a Braeden?” Derek asked as he sat down at the lunch table. 

Scott shrugged, preoccupied with wrestling a stray piece of cheese dangling off the pizza into his mouth.

“No idea,” he finally managed around the mouth full of what the cafeteria _called_ pizza.

Derek turned his gaze to Stiles, who had suddenly become fascinated with his chocolate milk. Derek arched a brow, an expression, as Stiles had so eloquently described it many times, that made him look like a judgmental serial killer.

“Well, uh,” Stiles poked at the chunk of meat on his tray, “you know, I think this might be the closest thing to meatloaf that they’ve—”

“It’s Salisbury steak.” Derek pointed at the sign next to the lunch line. “You know Braeden?” he pressed.

“There’s a Braeden on the squad, you know.” Stiles shrugged and glanced almost guiltily around the lunchroom.

“No, I don’t know, which is why I’m asking.” Derek scowled.

“Well, she may or may not have been talking about wanting to ask you out,” Stiles said in a rush, his cheeks flushing.

“Why?” Derek demanded, appalled. “Since when have I ever even come _close_ to registering on any of the cheerleaders’ radars?” He scowled again as he thought. “I actually do my best not to be noticed by people.” The idea that the cheerleader, _Braeden_ had noticed him and noticed the location of his _locker_ , made the space between his shoulders itch.

“Dude, you have been hanging around at more games.” Scott shoved the last of the pizza into his mouth, gagging slightly and making a face that suggested he was considering spitting it out.

Derek turned away, focusing on Stiles again to avoid what was going on in the seat next to him. “I don’t understand.” He put his hands on the table, palm up, asking for clarification.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, his eyes focusing on something just over Derek’s shoulder.

Derek turned his head, dreading it, hoping Scott hadn’t spewed his pizza back onto the tray. _Please,_ he thought, his stomach turning, _please just let his esophagus open enough for him to swallow the pizza._

“Kate!” Stiles cheered. He grinned, though it looked tight. 

Derek glanced at him more fully, concerned by his falsely cheery tone/.

“Stiles.” A blonde girl with a large bow in her hair gave him a curt nod. Her gaze swiveled to Derek and a poisonous sort of smile curled her mouth. “I’m Kate Argent.” She said it like he would have already known that. “Do you want to catch a movie with me Friday night? I have tickets to the new Marvel movie and am looking for someone to go with.” She licked her lips like she was considering eating Derek’s entrails for a snack at that movie.

“No.” It occurred to Derek after he said it that there was possibly another way to decline. He could have made up an excuse about a family dinner, or previous plans, but everything about this Kate girl screamed **RUN**.

Scott was making strangled choking noises on the other side of the table, but Derek’s attention was focused solely on Kate. He felt like if he looked away, she would see that as a sign of submission and attack.

Her eyes glittered maliciously. “Hmm,” she hummed. She ran her tongue over her too-perfect teeth. “Alright.” She looked at Stiles, then back at Derek, offered a perky smile, and sailed away as if she hadn’t cared about his answer, anyway.

“Smooth,” Stiles whispered sarcastically. 

Derek looked at him.

Stiles was tense, his eyes slightly wider than normal, but Derek wasn’t sure if it was from surprise or fear. 

“You okay, Scott?” Derek asked, flicking his gaze over his other table mate. “You need the Heimlich?” 

Scott shook his head violently, giving the “ok” symbol with his hand and opening his milk with the other. There was an actual, visible lump in his throat, which was nauseating.

“Can I borrow your copy of _Lord of the Flies_?” Derek asked Stiles. “Someone in my house took mine and is holding it hostage and I need to catch up reading.”

Stiles nodded, leaning down to dig in his backpack for the book. “I need it back by the end of the week.” 

“Deal. I can be done by then.” Derek accepted the book gratefully. “Thank you.”

 

**3**

“What’s wrong?” Laura asked for the third time since she picked Derek and Cora up from school. 

“I have my license but not a car,” Derek shot, doing his best to pretend that that _was_ the source of his sulk.

Cora lapsed into a fit of giggles in the back seat and Derek suddenly regretted calling shotgun. At least if he were in the back, she’d be in arm’s reach.

Laura rolled her eyes.

“Derek’s got girl problems,” Cora said when Laura looked at her in the rearview mirror. 

“Do not.” Derek crossed his arms, turning to look out the window. So he was four in a seventeen-year-old body. He could live with that.

“You were asked out by two of the cheerleaders in less than two days.” Cora leaned forward in the backseat, gripping his headrest as she adjusted herself. She flicked his ear, making him smack at her, but she’d already sat back, out of easy reach.

“Oh?” Laura asked, surprised.

Derek felt her glancing at him and glared at her. “I told them no.” He twisted so he could fix his glare on Cora. “How do you know about that?”

Cora let out a cackling laugh. “I have informants.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “And no, I’m not giving up their names.”

Derek snorted, trying to act like he couldn’t care less that she was obviously a stalker.

“Maybe your informants could tell me why they’re doing it all of a sudden?” Derek forced his tone to sound sweet.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Cora shook her head in a way that told Derek she knew something and just wasn’t telling him.

They pulled into their driveway and Laura grunted out, “Huh.”

Derek quickly spotted the source.

A strange car sat in their driveway. The driver, a pretty brunette girl, stood next to the front bumper, grinning and talking to Peter.

“That’s Jennifer Blake,” Cora whispered as if the girl might hear them. “Guess that’s _three_ cheerleaders in one day.”

Derek tossed his hands up in exasperation, shooting a ‘ _help me’_ look at Laura.

She shook her head and shrugged, putting the car in park. She seemed content to sit in the driver’s seat and watch the show.

 _She should have some popcorn,_ he thought sourly as he got out, slamming the door loudly behind him and trying to ignore the stares of his sisters. He approached Jennifer Blake and Peter on shuffling feet, trying to look as petulant and un-dateable as possible.

“What?” he asked bluntly. From the raised-brow-look his uncle shot him, he figured he wasn’t coming across as pleasant. Success.

“I thought you might want to hang out this weekend.” Jennifer smiled sweetly at him, unperturbed by his attitude. 

Jennifer wasn’t quite as _predatory_ as Kate, but something about her was _too_ mild and sweet.

“Why might I want to do that?” he snapped. At some point, anger had begun to bubble in his stomach, a low simmer that he wasn’t quite sure the source of.

Something was _clearly_ going on and he was fed up with it. 

Jennifer’s smile faltered and she looked wrong-footed. She opened her mouth to say something, her face flushing, but Derek slashed his hand through the air to cut her off.

Peter looked mildly impressed, but he was a dramatic guy and theatrical gestures made him proud.

“I don’t know what game you and the other cheerleaders are playing, but leave me out of it. I’m not interested.” Derek stomped past her toward the house, ready to barricade himself in his room and duke out his fury with the fifty question math monster his algebra teacher had assigned.

 

 

 **4**  
Paige Krasikeva sat next to him in chemistry the next day. It was fairly innocuous, but Derek was agitated anyway. He suspected the cheerleaders were playing a game involving him and he was a more than a little suspicious that Jennifer hadn’t passed on the message to back off. 

“Did you finish your homework?” Paige asked, passing her own work to the front of the class.

While Braeden and Kate had been straightforward, and Jennifer had gone for the sweet route, Paige seemed to be uninterested, even bored.

Derek glared at her suspiciously, even though she was being her usual self. He handed the homework to the kid who sat in front of him. 

“Obviously,” he muttered.

Paige nodded, looking down at her textbook and sighing. “I suppose the answer would be no…” She glanced at him, her expression stiff and distant.

“Obviously,” he repeated, lifting his lip and daring her to ask. 

She nodded, satisfied, and opened her textbook, ignoring him for the rest of the class.

 

 **5**  
Derek sat down at the lunch table with a heavy thud, deliberately ignoring Scott’s protests as he scrambled to stop his milk from toppling over into his food.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

Derek gave an irritable wave of his hand and a growling snort that he felt portrayed his array of emotions perfectly.

“Use your words,” Stiles suggested. “We’ll be able to understand you better. It’s how us humans communicate.”

Derek ran his hands over his face in exasperation. “I swear someone’s spiked the cheerleaders’ Redbulls or something. It’s driving me crazy. One asking me out would have been in the realm of normal, but so far four have come up to me. Four,” he added for emphasis. He even held up his fingers.

Scott threw Stiles a quick, anxious glance, and Stiles cringed, glaring at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

Scott elbowed him.

Stiles retaliated by shoving him.

Scott put a browned dinner roll in his mouth, whole.

“It’s not your fault,” Derek grumbled. “I just don’t understand why they’re doing it. Is it a game? A prank? It’s driving me bat shit. I want to know when the other shoe is going to drop. I want to know what the other shoe _is._ ” He dug the pads of his fingers into his eyes until stars flickered across his vision. “I know they’re up to something.”

“And what do you think that something is?” a sweet voice said next to him.

Derek looked up, the glare already on his face as he took in Lydia Martin standing next to them.

“If I knew I’d put a stop to it.” Derek narrowed his eyes, trying to make the glare more threatening.

Lydia looked unimpressed. “Well,” she said blithely, “rumor was that you liked someone on the squad, so it’s only natural for us to want to figure out who.” She tipped her head, studying him like something under a microscope.

Derek clenched a fist around the edge of the table.

“Or maybe,” he said tartly, “I have a friend who’s on the squad and was supporting him.”

Stiles made a noise between a whine and a squeak and Scott let out a low breath that almost sounded like a swear word. 

“So, if I asked you out you’d say no?” Lydia asked, her eyes widening just enough to probably make a dumber man think she was innocent.

“I’d say no to _anyone_ on the cheer squad who asked me out,” Derek growled. “I don’t want to date a _cheerleader._ ”

“Perfect.” Lydia waved daintily as she sauntered back to her own table, a victorious smile dancing across her face.

“See what I mean?” Derek demanded, turning back around. He paused, looking around their table. “Where’d Stiles go?”

 

 **+1**  
Derek was sprawled on his bed with his nose buried in _Lord of the Flies_ when someone knocked on the doorframe of his room.

“What?” he asked moodily, not needing to look away from the book to know Peter was watching him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Peter walked into the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He stretched out like he lived there. “And since both of your sisters have sworn undying oaths of silence, I have come to the source.” He stared at the side of Derek’s face unwaveringly.

Derek snorted. He continued to study the same line he’d read three times. “Threatening to not shower for a week is hardly an oath of undying silence.” 

“Apparently it is.” Peter hummed and settled in, apparently content to wait Derek out.

None of the other cheerleaders had approached him for the rest of the week, none had even spoken to him, which was _normal_ , finally, again, but Stiles hadn’t spoken to him either.

He fell silent when Derek sat at the lunch table, and yesterday had even made an excuse about tutoring Isaac and left him alone with Scott, who had stuffed his face and stayed quiet about the whole thing.

“High school sucks and teenagers are jerks,” Derek said, summing his week up in seven words.

“Not that I’d ever disagree to either of those facts, but you have been acting particularly off, even for a teenage jerk.” 

Peter focused his attention on the bookshelf, probably scanning them to figure out which ones he wanted to read next. Maybe Peter was the book thief. 

“Want to talk about it?” Peter asked, refocusing his attention on him.

“No.” Derek squinted at the words on the page, trying to force his brain to read and ignore his uncle.

“Fine.” Peter rose to his feet, stretching like he’d napped. “Oh, Stiles said he’d be coming by around six to pick up his book.”

Derek swore under his breath; it _was_ already Friday. He glanced at the clock. He had a few more hours. He quickly decided if he couldn’t finish by then he’d just have to suffer with the cliff notes version. 

“Okay,” Derek muttered, failing yet again to focus on reading.

Maybe it was the book.

***

 

Derek was three chapters away from his goal when a second knock came to his door. He rolled over, prepared to tell Peter he was trying to focus and was on a time crunch when the words caught on his tongue.

Stiles stood in the doorway, looking unsure of himself.

Derek frowned. Since when was Stiles nervous about Derek’s _room_? He’d been in it back when there were dinosaurs on the sheets.

“I, uh, need my book back,” Stiles said, looking anywhere except at Derek. “I was content waiting downstairs but your family, yeah, they sent me up here.” A brief scowl blocked out the nerves on his face.

Derek sat up and closed the book. “Thanks again for letting me borrow it.” He grinned awkwardly. “I almost caught up, but was kind of distracted this week.”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed dryly. He cleared his throat.

“Are you acting off because of whatever the other cheerleaders were trying to do?” Derek asked, holding the book hostage. He pressed the cover to his chest and rolled off the other side of his bed.

Stiles gave a one shouldered shrug. “Kinda?” He didn’t meet Derek’s gaze. “I mean, I tried mentally bracing myself, but it still hurts. I’ll get over it.” He gave a weak smile, looking Derek in the eyes for the first time in days.

Derek’s frowned, confused “I don’t understand.” 

Stiles made a dismissive gesture and glanced over his shoulder like he was looking for an escape route. The hall was lit with both Laura and Cora’s open bedroom doors. He scowled. “The girls, they heard me talking to Scott about asking you to see the new Star Wars movie with me, and took it upon themselves to prove you didn’t want to date cheerleaders, said they weren’t your type, so…” He gave another jerky gesture with his hands.

A red flush was creeping up Stiles’s neck as he spoke and Derek suddenly found it hard to breathe. 

“They did what?” he gasped.

“You said it yourself to Lydia, you don’t want to date anyone on the squad.” Stiles stared at his shoes, silence lapsed between them. “Can I have my book back?”

“I knew they were up to something,” Derek hissed. “Those— _vampires_.” 

“Derek, please….” Stiles trailed off, looking miserable and small. “I just want my book.”

“Stiles,” Derek blurted, “they set me up to—they wanted me to say it like that.” Derek looked around his room, unsure of how to say what he was thinking. Of course he’d go to see the movie with Stiles. If Cora had known the truth he was going to kill her for not saying something. “I wasn’t talking—they were—” 

“Sounded pretty sincere to me.” Stiles cringed.

“No, no,” Derek gasped, flailing in such a Stiles-esque manner that he sent the book flying. It smacked the window. “I’m not, I didn’t mean. I’m not into girls, like at all, of course I’m going to tell them no.” Derek ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts in an organized fashion. He didn’t miss the fact that Stiles stilled, his gaze finding his again. It gave him the anchorage he needed to steady his thoughts. “I was angry because I knew something was off. They were all acting weird. I didn’t mean _you_. If you still want to go see the movie, _of course_ I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” Stiles’s eyes gleamed, a shy smile lighting up his face.

“Yes!” Derek picked his way across the room and saved the book from the window sill, holding it out now that he was confident Stiles wasn’t going to just grab it and run.

A grin bloomed across Stiles’s face, his posture shifting, opening up, as he took the book and began to fidget with excitement. 

“Saturday night?” Stiles asked brightly

“Yes,” Derek agreed.


End file.
